


Bloody Bedmates

by EssayOfThoughts



Series: Blood and Burning [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Choking, Dubious Consent - on both their parts, Hatesex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 19:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5883097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EssayOfThoughts/pseuds/EssayOfThoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo's not always calm but when he's calm enough he likes to wind up General Hux.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloody Bedmates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TobermorianSass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobermorianSass/gifts).



> Written to [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ibPhAOLXPRI) soundtrack.

**Bloody Bedmates**

 

Some days Kylo wonders if Snoke knows how much he hates Hux, and other days he suspects the Leader knows. Hux is so _precise_. So reined in, so tightly controlled, almost Jedi-like in his perfect calm no matter what happens. An attack can fail and Hux will just rally and find another way through. A negotiation might be ruined and Hux will sigh and find a way to strong-arm the same results.

He could destroy a bank of computers (with his _lightsabre_ no less) and Hux would watch for a few minutes, press fingers to his brows and leave.

Later the computers would be fixed, as though nothing had happened.

 

* * *

 

Its… - Kylo hesitates to call it _fun_ but that’s the only real word for it - to wind up Hux. It’s _easy_ too, if he waits for the right days, when the stresses of leadership, the weight of Snoke’s orders, the prices of failures are all weighing on him. It’s made better by the fact that Hux never seems to quite expect it from him, standing in the corner of the room as an ominous warning pillar to all the officers in command.

“No,” Kylo says. He can see the vein on Hux’s brow, see his jaw clenching and _my,_ he thinks, _this must have been a bad day_. “That will lead them to us.”

“I,” Hux says, biting out the words, “Am the General here. Not you. Not Phasma. I am. We send out the TIE fighters.”

Beneath his mask Kylo smiles. “And I am the only Force user here. Doing that will lead them to us.”

Kylo can feel the air around Hux tense. The Force hovering in the air between them, his own wide spread, Hux’s mild amounts, and Hux is _tense_ , Hux is _angry_ , and it is evident in what he says next.

“Like the Force has led you to them when you’ve been sent to find them?”

They don’t mention his failings. They _do not_ mention his failings. Bad enough it is that he has to tell Snoke with each report but _this_ this will not be borne, _he_ is the more powerful, _he_ is the more valued, and the air drops several degrees in temperature around them. Kylo is furious, is burningly angry, he can feel the Dark Side rising up as it only does in failure or in arguments like this, arguments with Hux, and his fingers are twitching, so desperate to _use_ the Force, to crush Hux’s windpipe like a twig.

He holds back. Just barely, he holds back.

“So you mean to lead them to us then?” He asks, trying to keep his tone as even as he can. It’s not even. There is a gasping note of anger to it, and even his vocoder can’t compensate for it. “I didn’t take you for a _traitor_.”

There is fury in Hux’s eyes, fury that Kylo has never seen, not in the eyes of the villagers they have killed, not in the eyes of the prisoners they have taken, not in _anyone_ , even his mother across the battlefield, and it almost shocks him. It is a biting fury, as bright as the General’s hair in sunlight, gleaming almost cruelly as the General stands.

“Leave,” he says.

Kylo tilts his head, gestures as though to turn, twists his wrist _just so_ to make it almost mocking.

 _“Not you_ ,” Hux snarls, and it is a _snarl_ , teeth and anger and fury. “You stay, Kylo Ren.” He spits the name as analysts and lieutenants scurry to the doors. What little Force there is that hovers around Hux is bright and strong and biting, and Kylo can feel the anger of it flickering through the air, turning his own Force more towards the Dark Side.

They wait for everyone to scurry out, for the doors to hiss shut before Kylo speaks. “Well,” he says. “If I’d known staying calm would make you make such a fool of yourself I’d have done it sooner.” He pauses, just a moment. “Traitor.”

He doesn’t mean it, not at all, he knows Hux to be loyal to the First Order, more loyal than anyone bar himself and Snoke, but it makes the fury spark again, makes the Force in the room Darken and it is _delicious_ , delicious in a way the Dark Side has never quite been before. Bitter yes. Biting yes. But not this brutal kind of _delicious_. Hux strides across the room, long steps from long legs, uniform still so precise, not a hair out of place for all his anger. Long fingers reach for his neck as though to throttle, and Kylo is almost laughing, almost high with it, the fury in the Force about them. He barely notices as Hux removes his helmet, examines it, throws it, clattering, to the ground.

“ _You_ ,” he says. “You of all people would call _me_ a traitor?” Kylo can feel Hux’s breath on his face, feel the pure fury, Darker in the Force than anything his own anger has given him hovering around them. “How _dare_ you?”

Kylo sways back a little, looks Hux in his (burning, furious) eyes. “Well,” he says. “I _did_.”

The Force around them is silky and stabbing, shadowed shades of slick black slipping between them, dancing the fury into more. Kylo almost wants to reach out, feel out the thoughts in Hux’s head, but he doesn’t think there really is anymore. He has _never_ seen Hux like this, _ever_.

He’s loathe to admit it, but it’s quite attractive.

“You are making me look like a _FOOL_ ,” Hux says and he is _screaming_ , and Kylo is live with it, the responding rising anger, the Force, the Dark Side calling. “You aren’t even _listening!”_

Then his lips are on Kylo’s and things become… confusing.

It’s anger around them, absolutely, nothing less than anger, and so much more with the fury bright and burning, stabbing and silky slipping between them, the Force rising, and Kylo cannot do anything but respond, biting back for every bit Hux gives, fingers digging into Hux’s arms, and he is almost growling, a counterpart to Hux’s snarl and, well, he’s not sure what this is anymore.

 

* * *

 

 _How dare he?_ Hux thinks. _How dare he, how **dare** he, a traitor himself, and not even **listening**. _ It’s easy to kiss Kylo, confuse him, startle him out of his anger-giddy expression, and easier still to _bite_ , teeth digging into flesh until he can taste the coppery touch of almost-blood. Kylo growls almost, twists his lip out of Hux’s teeth, bites back, and Hux is pretty sure pain isn’t supposed to feel as good as this does.

He can feel Kylo’s fingers digging into his arms, as though to stop him moving and he’s certain he’s _strong_ enough, Force or not, to hold him still if he lets him, but that is a lack of power, is a lack of strength, and Hux pulls his arms free, and catches Kylo’s wrists as they rise trying to grab him back.

“No,” he says, snarls into Kylo’s mouth. “You don’t get to control me.”

Kylo’s dark eyes are bright, pupils blown wide, giddy and angry and confused and eager, all mingled into one uncertain morass, solidifying around anger, and he bites down harder on Hux’s lip.

Hux tastes blood.

Every muscle in his body is tense, holding Kylo’s arms still, and he doesn’t dare let go of Kylo’s hands in case he’s Force-choked, so he surges forwards, hits Kylo with his forehead and holds him still from reeling back further. He can feel the blood dribbling down his chin, feel the sting of the bite in his mouth, and takes the moment of Kylo’s stunned uncertainty to throw his lightsabre across the room before making a grab for his wrist. Hux realises this is probably all on cameras, and makes a mental note to chase down and delete every copy of the holo when this is over, but now, _right_ now, he has to focus on Kylo.

 

* * *

 

He is reeling, from bite and kiss and head-butt all, from seeing his lightsabre clatter across the floor like his helmet did, and from the emotions rising confusing the hate.

Oh he’s angry still, he’s _furious_ , Hux, head-butting him? But there are other things, things he has not felt before, and he suppose he knows what lust is, what want and desire and attraction all are, but it had always been more important to hone his Force powers, to tie himself to the Dark, than it had been to experiment with that. There had always been another purpose and now…

_Anger. Want. Fury. Power._

Kylo lifts his hand and chokes Hux.

 

* * *

 

Fingers, cold fingers, fingers of air and Force and nothing more are pressing down on his windpipe and he is gasping, gasping, hands pulling at the wrist he still holds, trying to get Kylo to stop, and maybe this had been a mistake, to handle the argument this way, with his vision going black and blood still on his face, and Kylo’s eyes a medley of anger and fury and desire for control.

The fingers vanish and Hux hauls a gasping breath in.

 _How dare he_ , is all he thinks before tackling Kylo, pushing him into a wall, pinning him with his own body. There is, he thinks, something to be said for power, and he ignores Kylo’s thrashing to grab his lip between his teeth, and dig his teeth in. Blood had been drawn, yes, from him.

He was going to kriffing well take it back.

 

* * *

 

 _This is a fight_ , Kylo thinks and then, _This is something new_. Hux’s teeth are dug into his lip and his hands are still free, he could choke Hux again, if he wanted, but it’s more satisfying to twist in the bite, to bite back, kiss back, confuse their mouths into anger and what he thinks might be called passion under other circumstances. The pain is good, pain has always been good, driving him to the Dark Side, and he can feel it now, feel it in a way that he never has before, shadowed and slick and stabbing between them both, what meagre Force there is in Hux, and his own great wave.

He can feel Hux pressing against him, feel himself pressing against Hux, feel the teeth still digging into his lip, tearing at the skin with each twist he gives in the bite-kiss he is responding with. He is still pressed against the wall, but then he’s always fought well backed into a corner, much better than open ground where opponents can run and hide wherever they will. He digs his fingers into Hux’s hips, lifts his hips to Hux’s and is rewarded with a groan from the General.

 _One point to me_ , he thinks, before Hux bites down again, and a shock of pleasure-pain leaves him gasping. The Force around them is Dark, so Dark, like ink, like space, like Vader’s helmet, and Kylo lifts his hips again, pressing their bodies together for all the layers of their clothes.

Hux bites down once more, and Kylo tastes the fresh burst of blood. “You’re in _furiating_ ,” Hux says. It’s not a sigh or a snarl, it’s almost a groan, but it’s followed by Hux’s fingers tearing away Kylo’s scarf and his teeth on Kylo’s throat.

 

* * *

 

Kylo is gasping, Hux can feel each breath, each pulse of Kylo’s through his teeth pressed to Kylo’s throat. Biting and sucking and Kylo is an _amateur_ at this, grinding their hips together artlessly as he is. Kylo’s skin is soft, and Hux knows it would be very easy to draw blood again, but that is not the goal this time.

The goal this time is to keep power.

Hux presses his fingers around Kylo’s throat, almost gentle, almost caressing, and presses his fingertips down in the hollow of Kylo’s throat. The slightest pressure of his fingers, the slightest hitch in Kylo’s breath, and Hux smiles and digs his teeth in again.

 

* * *

 

Kylo is twisting now, and shaking, and he cannot seem to stop either. He digs his fingers into Hux’s hips, tries to pay back pain for pain, but it is not good enough. He feels the pressure at his throat, not a full choke but his breath is catching, each gasp a little more desperate for air. _Is this what Hux felt when I choked him?_ He wonders. _Was it worse?_ Kylo bucks his hips into Hux’s, bites his own lip, torn flesh aching worse, pain and pleasure and the drive of the fight and the Dark around them so strongly lashing. He lifts a hand from Hux’s hip, tries to focus through the pleasure and the pain, and the ache of his bleeding lips.

 

* * *

 

Hux feels his breath hitching again. Feels fingers made of the Force pressing on his throat, but stuttering as though the focus is not all there.

The power is, though. The choking sways between almost nothing and barely able to breathe, and Hux presses their bodies closer, feels Kylo grinding against him and feels the Force-fingers lightening against his throat. He almost laughs, lifts his lips from Kylo’s throat where they’ve been making a lovely dark bruise.

“Focus,” he chides, pressing his hips to Kylo’s again. The fingers against his throat stutter then come back full force. Hux presses his fingers again into the hollow of Kylo’s throat, draws in a rasping breath, dips his head to bite the bruise he has made and feels Kylo’s shaking increase.

 

* * *

 

Kylo thinks he could, if he tried, switch their positions. If he choked Hux enough to give him pause, take advantage of the moment, but this as it is, anger still, trying to best each other, pleasure and pain and the Dark, the Dark so crisp and clear and as deep as space or Vader’s helmet, the pain offering it, the pleasure holding it, extremes of what he had never felt together, and he can feel Hux’s teeth worrying at his neck, tender skin twinging and teasing, and he arches into the General when the teeth find an especially tender spot.

All Kylo can think is _more._

 

* * *

 

There is mess on both their clothes when they are done. Kylo doesn’t especially want to move, spent after the fight and whatever it was best to call what happened after. Sex? A sex-fight?

“Hatesex,” Hux says, sighing as he stands. “And with _you_ no less. Kriffing hell.” He runs a hand through his hair, neatening it out as he straightens his uniform.

His _stained_ uniform. He notices the mark and sighs, looks to the ceiling, swears again. “And everyone will be outside still won’t they, oh _Stars_.” He strides over to a wall panel, hits a few broken buttons, and Kylo watches in almost amazement as the panel slides to one side. Hux glances down to him, condescending as ever.

“Well?” he says. “I hope you have _some_ sense of professionalism _.”_

Kylo groans and stands; summons helmet and scarf and lightsabre and follows Hux through the door.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> You may also notice this is part of a series. The next in this series is not as slashy, and nor is the one after that. Or well. They _are_ but not like this. This was all sex, the next two are not. If you liked this because of the sex you will not like what follows in either as they are both non-smutty, if you want something cheerful then I advise going to the Series page and clicking through to _[Brightly Burning](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5951014)_ , while if you want a more realistic look at what could possibly happen from this then please do click on to _[Burning Hearts](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5914594)_. In either case please do leave comments!


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